CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ALARA
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ALARA
“I have a surprise for you.”
Diego’s head swivels in my direction just as I pull into a parking spot at the resort. “Again? Damn, woman, you spoil me rotten.”
The excitement bubbling inside me has been simmering and on the brink of exploding, and I didn’t sleep one bit last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about this. Today, though, was the slowest day ever – this is what tends to happen when I check the time every five minutes.
“But wait,” he starts, his brows bunching together in confusion. “Do we have another lesson? I thought we just had that one in the morning.”
“We don’t have another lesson.” Cutting off the engine, I give him a smile that makes him narrow his eyes in suspicion. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, he follows me to the trunk. When I open it, the confusion on his face deepens, and I’m doing my best to stay put and not jump around with the news that’s on the tip of my tongue. Diego looks from his snowboard and his duffel bag to me, questions dancing in his eyes.
“What the hell? Are you planning on ditching my gear somewhere?”
I shake my head, huffing in amusement. “I can’t believe you still think I want your downfall after everything we’ve been through.”
His dimples make themselves known on his handsome face.
Quickly looking around and making sure there isn’t anyone we know lurking around, I step in front of him and wrap my arms around his waist. His eyes soften as he brushes my bangs away from my brow.
I take a moment to observe the amber glow around his pupils, lightened by the late afternoon sun streaming down on his face.
“Dr Ellis called me last night,” I tell him.
That earns me another questioning look. “Consider this an early Christmas present from him. You’re allowed to ride, but you—”
“What?” The next moment, he’s letting go of me, utterly shocked. Then, he’s bouncing around like a kid high on sugar, running around my car and screaming profanities at the sky.
I laugh, the sheer excitement emanating from him giving me a warm feeling inside my chest.
“Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up!” He grabs my upper arms and shakes me, and my laughter booms louder. “You’re kidding me.”
“This is real,” I murmur.
“Oh, my God.” After letting out a breath, he crashes his lips on mine for a quick yet hard kiss. “Holy shit.”
“I know. But listen to me before you get too excited” – he groans, but his eyes are still glowing – “no snow park until you’re allowed to train again, no hard tricks, and we’re starting easy by running a blue trail just to get your body used to the sensations again.
As soon as you feel a pull in your leg or shoulder, we stop. Is that okay with you?”
Diego nods frantically. “I never thought— I thought— Fuck yeah, this is better than anything I thought would happen during my recovery. Were you the one who managed to convince him? And what about Coach?”
“Coach doesn’t know— yet. This is our secret. Dr Ellis has been checking in regularly with my dad about the way you act in general, but, since I spend more time with you, he gave me a call, and I told him that you deserve to ride again. You’ve been recovering steadily, so—”
My words are cut off by the force of his kiss, and I fall into him, my heart hammering against my breastbone. I fist the front of his sweater as I raise on my tiptoes, but before we can get lost in the moment, in each other, I pull away. “Let’s go before the sun sets.”
We’re still wearing the base layers we shrugged on before this morning’s lesson, so we quickly change in the parking lot. I can’t help but stare at the way he moves, like he can’t wait a second longer before stepping on his board.
It does something unfathomable to me, to see him in his full gear again. To see the pure happiness glinting around the edges of his irises. He deserves this, and I would’ve fought and defended him for hours if his physiotherapist hadn’t given me the green light.
After quickly warming up, he holds my board and his as we walk to the resort, and when we sit in the chair lift he talks my ear off about that one time he and Jordan descended a specific trail when they were teens.
I could listen to him talk every day, every hour, every minute.
He’s so passionate about this sport, and I love watching him come to life when he talks about it.
Just as we’re about to hop off, he leans in to peck my cheek. “Thank you, baby.”
And then we’re running, and even though I’m trying to focus on my route, all I can see is Diego.
We’re passing through my favorite part of the resort – a trail that’s hidden between tall pine trees – and with the sky turning from a golden hue to a splash of lavender and pink, I can’t help but think this moment is incomparable.
Diego is in front of me, moving like he’s on water, testing some easy tricks like an Ollie and a Frontside 180. He doesn’t appear frustrated to not be able to do more. On the contrary, he looks utterly elated to be here, and that makes me happy.
He slaloms from one edge of the trail to another with astonishing control and acute precision, and then tips his face toward the sky to let out a scream of pure, unadulterated joy.
My heart bursts with happiness, with true, unconditional love for this man.
Everything is perfect.
“Please, put me out of my misery.”
Diego is comically dramatic.
Currently lying like a starfish in the middle of the ice rink, he stares at the starry sky like he’s wishing for this moment to be the last one of his existence.
I can’t help but wince when a boy zaps past his outstretched hand, however well gloved. He curls his fingers, then moves his exasperated gaze toward my amused one.
Who knew a professional snowboarder would be so terrible at ice skating? Seeing him trying to move forward was very entertaining, but I think he hates me for laughing at him instead of helping him.
I extend my hand, biting back my grin. “Come on. It’s okay. We can’t be good at everything we do.”
He pulls himself up. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
After brushing the back of his head and jacket, I pull him out of the rink as people float by, laughter dancing in the air like a joyful melody.
We sit on a bench, and I openly laugh at his grumpy expression. That earns me a dirty look, which just triggers another cacophony of giggles from me. This time, he chuckles under his breath while slightly shaking his head. Note to self: do not take Diego ice skating ever again.
Once he’s out of his skates, he kneels before me and starts unlacing mine.
It’s a struggle to keep my hands on my lap instead of running them through his curls.
There are too many people around, though none of them are close friends or family, but the town might start gossiping soon enough – the downside of living in a small place where everyone knows everyone.
“How are you feeling?” I ask softly.
He makes a noncommittal noise, looking up at me through his lashes. It’s unfair how long and thick they are. “I can’t skate for the life of me.”
“Oh, come on, you had fun.”
“Sure, for the whole two seconds where I managed to keep balance instead of lying on the ground like a sorry bitch.”
Laughter bubbles out of me, warming my cheeks, which puts a grin on Diego’s face too. His expression softens as he regards me with an intensity that makes me blush. He sits down again next to me while we change into our shoes, and says, “I’m okay.”
“How are you really?” I know Diego’s comfortable sharing his thoughts with me, but sometimes it feels like he’s too much in his head and refraining from telling me how he’s actually feeling.
He knows that I’ll never pressure him into opening up if he doesn’t want to, though.
But I don’t like it when he bottles everything inside.
He finds my gaze, smiling softly. “I’m good, baby.
” If he notices he’s used the nickname he’s given me while people roam around us, he doesn’t let on.
I remain a blushing mess. “All thanks to you. You know, I don’t know if I could’ve done it if you weren’t here to help me feel better about myself.
” He claps his hands between his thighs, glancing at the busy rink.
“My recovery has been challenging, physically speaking, but rebuilding myself mentally hasn’t been easy either.
Days were definitely shit at the beginning, but I haven’t felt this good in a while.
I know it’s because you’re always here to hold my hand. ”
His words send a rush of warmth through me. Seeing him looking lighter and happier, and knowing I’ve been contributing positively to his recovery is like ticking a box after completing a challenge.
“I’m happy to hear that,” I murmur. The urge to touch him becomes overwhelming. “You’ll get there.”
He stares at me with a certain tenderness he should really be hiding, since we’re in public, but he doesn’t seem to care.
For a flickering heartbeat, his eyes drop to my mouth, then he says, “Let’s go.
I don’t want to see this rink for the next ten years.
” He sees the roll of my eyes. “I had fun, though.”
“Right. Look at you trying to make up for your douchey attitude.”
He leans in, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “I can think of a few things to make you forgive me. Starting by getting down on my knees and pulling your—”
I clamp my hand over his mouth. He laughs, nibbling at my palm before letting go. “Keep the sweet talk for when we get home, you flirt. Let’s just go.”
After returning the borrowed skates, he pulls me toward the Christmas market. “Craving a crêpe or hot cocoa?” I ask with a taunt.
His mouth tilts upward. “Are you asking me to recreate our first date that wasn’t a date but I still consider as one?”
“The answer to your nonsense is yes.”
“Noted.”